


Sore Winners

by RavenDark



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenDark/pseuds/RavenDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2005 Endless Summer Nights exchange fic challenge submission.<br/>Things to include:<br/>1. The words "hose you down"<br/>2. one of them needs convincing<br/>3. "romantic interlude" some place that where they could be caught.<br/>Hmmm...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sore Winners

 

> **Things to include:**      
>  ****
> 
>   1. The words "hose you down"
>   2. One of them needs convincing
>   3. "romantic interlude" some place that where they could be caught.      
>   (Does not have to be sex just has to be spur of the moment.)  
>   4. needs to be set anytime before they graduate from college  
> 

> 
>    
> 
> **Things not to include** :   
> 
>       1. The Country Club    
>       2. Sappy Tristan    
>       3. no OoC supporting cast please.   

  

**Sore Winners**   

“Alright…” Tristan sighed pulling back frustrated.  He had been back for three weeks now and things were moving much too slowly for his taste.  He looked across the car at the indignant face of Rory Gilmore.  She had a bit of an angry pout, something he’d have to take care fast before it escalated to a full blown bitch session.  The only problem though was that he was finding it hard to concentrate with Rory sitting across from him shirtless and bare-breasted.   

“You _do_ realize we’ve already had sex right?” Tristan ran his hand through the sweaty mess that was his hair, doing his best to tear his eyes away from her beautiful heaving chest _blasted summer heat_ , “I mean, you’re not planning on pulling the _I want to wait until we’re married before we do it again_ bit are you?”  

Even as the words came out of his mouth he could already hear himself thinking, _nope, not enough blood in the right head…  Stupid man…_   

Rory shrank back embarrassed, insulted, and more importantly, acutely self-conscious of her nakedness.  She reached over for her shirt with squinted eyes, “and if I did?”    

“Well,” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, it was too easy, “then I’d have to find me a girl of less discriminating convictions that’s all…”  

“Oh!” Rory slapped the hand that was reaching for her away, at once picking up the pace in which she threw her shirt over her head.    

In Tristan’s opinion, he had been more than patient; he couldn’t easily remember another girl whom he had showed that kind of self restraint for in the past.  He came close to saying so, but luckily came to his senses before he opened his mouth.  There was no way on earth that saying something like that would progress his relationship with the innocent Chiltonite in any way that would be seemed productive in his mind.    

What bugged him most though was that it seemed pretty obvious to him that the same sexual rage that threatened to take over when he was near her resided in her too.  He was not blind to the look in her eyes right before they kissed, the lust-filled hunger in her lips or the tell-tale scent in her breath that told him she wanted more than just a little peck in the cheek when things began to get hot and heavy.  He remembered their first time vividly, she certainly knew what she had wanted then, maybe a little too much… their first time has been… _could that be what she was afraid of?_   Another night like the first?  

 “Ror--” Tristan tried to laugh off his last comment but his eyes met up with the very angry, frozen look on Rory’s and decided to not push it, “…why don’t I take you home?”  

 “Why don’t you do that?” her face was an angry, if not adorable scowl.  

“Right” Tristan nodded straightening out his shirt before starting the car thinking, _stupid man…_    

 

***    *    *    ***  

   

Rory was glad her mother had not waited up for her tonight.  She was in no mood to meet the inquisitive gaze of Lorelai Gilmore as her mother tried to ascertain, by looking alone, how far her daughter had gone this time.  It was demeaning, it was insulting, and lately, it was a little too accurate for comfort.       

Rory sighed as she entered her room and closed the door behind her.  The day had not ended as she had hoped; it hadn’t in a while.  As she undressed for the night she thought about Tristan and how upset he had looked when he dropped her off.  Well maybe not upset, serious, thoughtful… like he was trying to figure out something but wasn’t sure where to start.  She looked at herself in the mirror… was _she_ upset?  She wasn’t even sure anymore.  She’d had plenty of time to simmer down on the silent ride home.     

Tristan had kissed her goodnight but he might as well have been kissing his aunt Petunia with the hairy mole on her chin… there was no passion in the kiss, no heat.  That bothered her.  Sure she had pushed Tristan back before things got a little too intense, again, but it took an enormous effort in her part to do so.  In fact, she realized as she saw her reflection in the mirror... that she was still breathing a little heavily, the fire in her belly not entirely extinguished.  Just being around Tristan did things to her body she could not easily explain and it bothered her that Tristan could “disconnect” so easily from her.  Their last time came to mind then and she turned red just thinking about it.  She was terribly embarrassed of what had happened and did not want something like that to happen again; well she did, just not like _that_.  The problem was that if Tristan pressed, she was really not sure she could hold out much longer.      

Rory sighed thinking of the effect Tristan had on her, _maybe it was the heat_ ; she told herself as she slipped under her sheets in little more than a thin tank, it was just too hot for anything else.  She closed her eyes remembering their tongues clashing earlier that day… hungrily, passionately.  _Her dainty hand roaming over the sculpted lines of his stomach…_   She traced around the bottom her shirt as she recalled his hands working magic on her skin leaving little traces of electricity wherever they touched her; and with her encouragement, they touched her everywhere…  Just the thought of Tristan made Rory break out in a sweat and she exhaled loudly pushing the sheets back and away from her body.  Too hot.  Her fingers slowly traced around the swell of her left breast under her tank-top… feeling what Tristan must have felt when he traced his tongue around her--     

Rory opened her mouth to let out a gasp as her body shuddered but a sound from upstairs stopped her cold.  Rory sat up, ears perked before slumping her shoulders in recognition.  The sound was unmistakable; Lorelai was having problems sleeping as well, _it had to be the heat._    

_Summers were just bad for_ _Gilmores_ Rory decided right then, trying to ignore the muffled groans and frustrated gasps, a clear indication of her mother’s bedroom activities.  One day, she’d have to tell her mother about the A/C duct, but obviously not tonight.  Tonight, Lorelai would sleep like a baby and Rory would count the frames in her room, there were five.  Any thought of Rory finishing what Tristan had started was long, gone out the window...  The fire in her belly? A pool of ice.  Somehow the idea of masturbating alongside her mother was something she did not find one bit appealing.  However, her mother did help her make up her mind.  She wanted Tristan; she couldn’t deny herself that anymore if she tried her hardest.  She wanted him and realized there was no reason to resort to what her mother was doing upstairs when she had a willing (and more than able!) participant to lend her a hand… among other things.  Rory put a pillow over her head to try to drown out the sounds of her mother’s upcoming climax and decided once and for all, to let Tristan know she was ready.  She couldn’t even remember why she’d been pushing him back to begin with anymore…   

 

***    *    *    ***  

 

Rory spotted her… 

Her boyfriend? 

Her friend- _plus_? 

Rory realized right then that they hadn't really talked about what they were to each other. Tristan had been back almost a month, he was staying at the inn, they'd seen each other almost every day, and they hadn't found time to have the "talk." What had they been doing? 

_Oh, yeah…_  

_Stuff…_ Rory blushed remembering the night before as Tristan's polished-blue eyes met with hers from across the lobby and her knees turned to jelly. 

He was talking to an older couple, guests of the inn. Whatever it was that he was telling them, had them glued to their spot on the carpet. He was just captivating that way. Rory looked on in proud amusement. _That was her_ … 

Friend with benefits? 

Make out buddy? 

_Damn it_ , they were going to have to have the "talk" soon! But first things first… Rory had to smile at her skewed priorities… This heat _was_ having a weird effect on her! 

Tristan broke from the couple with a very polite nod and walked over to the girl with the shifty feet. He had to smile in reaction to her nervous face… _what was on her mind now?_  

"Morning Ror-" Tristan eased casually into a kiss. Rory leaned up and kissed him back hungrily, a little impatiently. A detail that did not go unnoticed by him, _well she wasn't angry at him anymore… and something was definitely up…_  

Rory swallowed, looking up at him wide eyed, "We have to talk." 

There was that nervous look again. If Tristan didn't know any better, he would have said she was going to break up with him, but that wasn't it. She had certainly made a decision, but it wasn't that. Too bad she was choosing to wait or by the look on her face he'd have his answer. Whatever it was, he'd have to find out later, for now he decided he was going to give Rory some space… Let her know that he could take a hint and let her miss him a little like he missed her. Give her a taste of her own medicine… 

"Not now Ror, I just promised the Browns I would take them to Hartford," He gestured to the older couple, "I have some things to take care of up there anyway so I figured I would give them a lift. We'll talk when I get back." 

Then he left. No goodbye kiss. No "I love you" (thought to his credit he had never said it.) No explanations on who the "Browns" were. No mention of the plans they had made for that afternoon. He just left. She was close enough to the doors to feel a rush of stifling hot air rush in as the Browns exited behind Tristan. Rory flinched her eyes closed from the hellish heat feeling a beat of sweat trickling down the back of her neck. 

_Hot ass summer_ … 

So why did she still feel frigid? 

 

***    *    *    ***  

 

Rory was going insane.  There was no denying it, Tristan was punishing her.  He was being as detached as he possibly could without being so obvious that he would have to explain himself.  While watching a movie at her house, he insisted that Lorelai join them.  The look of shock on both of their faces was well worth the awkwardness of the evening. 

On days that she helped her mother at the inn, Tristan would call the front desk and ask for extra towels, or shampoo knowing that Rory would insist on taking them up and usually find him half naked working out in his room or just getting out of the shower.  A hungry kiss here, a quick feel there would drive Rory crazy with want the entire day…  

Only to find him gone by the time she got off work. 

Rory, tired of Tristan’s little game took matters into her own hands and used the hell-hot summer as an excuse to wear less and less around Mr. Frigid DuGray…  Hell-bent on breaking him, her bras were the first to go and when not enough skin showed through her t-shirts and tank tops she wore her Chilton shirts loose, and partly unbuttoned.  The skin that flashed in between the buttons definitely had a desired effect on Tristan… _He was obviously a fan of the schoolgirl look_ , something Rory was careful to make a note of… for later.  When she pulled her hair up she could almost hear him strain to keep his composure, especially when she turned her face to look away from him feigning innocence at the amount of skin she was exposing just for him...   

Caught in the sidelines, Lorelai could only look on.  She had already made up her mind that Tristan was pushing her daughter to the edge of corruption.  Never in her many years as a smart, sophisticated modern woman would she have entertained the idea of her virginal baby initiating tactful attacks of seduction on the young demigod with the silver sports car.  

Yet there it was.  From the kitchen table she could see them walking towards the house, Taylor ice cream cones in hand.  The look in Tristan’s face was unmistakable, but who could blame him… the way Rory twirled her hair with one hand as she looked up at him with her baby blues… licking the phallic cone as if she were giving him a preview of things to come…  She was a mini-Lorelai in heat.  

“Damn it!” Lorelai tore herself away from the window with an incredible amount of self-loathing.  Now _she_ wanted ice cream!   

Wait!   

That wasn’t it.   

Rory.    

Her baby, whom she trusted above all others.  If her daughter wanted to let this, this punk into her bed that was Rory’s business, not hers.  She was old enough to make her own decisions… Right?  She would not get involved, if Rory needed her, she would go to her.  Rory obviously didn’t need her, so she grabbed her purse and walked outside.  She did not want to be home to witness the awkward tango those two kept on getting themselves stuck in lately.   

“Hey mom!”  

“Hey kiddo” 

“Lorelai” Tristan nodded  

“Kid I don’t like” Lorelai nodded back not missing a beat. 

“Where you going?” Rory asked ignoring her mother’s last comment 

“Umm… I don’t know.  That ice cream looks good!” 

“Mmm… it is! Wanna taste?”  From where Lorelai stood, the damn thing even looked like a stubby phallus… stupid summer driving her nuts…  

“No… I think I’ll get my own,” Lorelai’s mouth watered, “I’ll be back in a few” 

“Okay,” Rory realized her mother was going to leave them alone in the house, “Umm… Tris and I are just gonna grab some things.” 

“Okay,” Lorelai looked at her daughter feeling a pang in her heart before turning to Tristan, “Kid I don’t like” 

“Lorelai” Tristan nodded not missing his beat. 

Rory could only smile shaking her head as they watched her mother leave before they entered the house. 

“I think she’s warming up to you!” Rory called back feeling nervous about being alone in her house with Tristan.  It wasn’t the first time, it just always felt this way to be alone with Tristan. 

“Yeah, like a branding iron…” Tristan muttered closing the door behind him.  Rory chuckled throwing her arms around his neck,  

“You’re nice.” 

“Yeah?” Tristan smirked, “and what do I get for being nice to your mother?” 

“This…” Rory leaned in pressing her lips to his immediately feeling woozy at the contact.  Tristan body reacted immediately to Rory pressing up against him, his resolve to make her squirm was waning fast and a low throaty groan escaped his lungs.  Tristan’s reaction was picked up by Rory who was silently delighted that she seemed to be gaining the upper hand.  Blood rushed to her face as determination struggled with concern that her mother would be back soon.  In the end, determination won and she bit her bottom lip in anticipation of her next move, but Tristan seemed to be one step ahead of her. 

“Here” Tristan took the melting ice cream cone from Rory’s hand and walked into the kitchen in purposeful steps as if he owned the house.  A pang of anxiety flashed through Rory, _was he going to take this away from her before it had begun?_   She hurried after him. 

“Rory where is your garba--” 

Rory pounced him before he had a chance to finish his sentence almost knocking him off his feet.  Her lips fell ardently on his, her body pressed against his in such a way that left little doubt on anybody what her intentions were.   

“Rory!” Tristan pushed her back wide-eyed, “what’s gotten into you?” 

“Are you complaining?” Rory’s chest heaved a little, her eyes were glossy with desire. 

“Well, no but--” 

Rory lunged at him again knocking the ice cream cones from his hand this time.  Tristan had to admit, not only was he highly amused, he was incredibly turned on. 

“Down Rory!  ...Don’t make me have to hose you down…” 

Rory batted her eyes at him before sheepishly asking, “Would you deny me if I were soaking wet?” 

The double-entendre of the sentence was not lost on Tristan.  His eyes darkened with lust and he pushed his face within an inch of hers, 

“You’re playing with fire little girl… your mother will be come home soon, do not start something you’re not gonna finish.”  

Rory blushed but she refused to give in, she put her hand in her pocket and shyly pulled something out, careful to keep it palmed inside her fist.  With her other hand, she nervously tugged at his belt to show him she meant business before shyly adding, 

“So finish it for me”  

For Tristan, the floodgates were opened.  He was on her before Rory even realized what was happening.  His lips came crashing on top of hers, his masculine hands on her face, her breasts, her waist, her hips, the front of her skirt… 

Rory’s heart raced and her mind swooned as she got caught up in the whirlwind that was Tristan DuGray once more.  She wanted this more that anything but she was suddenly afraid of what she had done.  She tried to gain some control but couldn’t open the buttons of Tristan’s shirt fast enough and became frustrated considering that hers already hung limp at her elbows and Tristan’s head was reaching down so that he could-- 

_Oh!_  

_That_ … do that with such intensity that she gasped out as her whole body contracted.  His tongue was ice cold compared to the fever that had resided inside Rory for days now, the contrast was incredible and she entwined her fingers in his hair to keep them connected as the momentum pushed them back against the kitchen table.  Rory felt the lips currently ravaging her nipple curl into an acknowledging smirk and she felt herself go weak.  The fight in her dwindled to a turbulent hunger ready to accept whatever Tristan had in mind. Rory knew there was something she was forgetting but at the moment she couldn’t figure out what it was… and frankly, she didn’t care.  Rory didn’t even put up a fight when Tristan pulled himself up, roughly turned her around and bent her over the kitchen table.  Her cheek touched the cold Formica as she felt her skirt being raised and her underwear roughly pulled down her thighs.  She silently wished he would take them off completely but said nothing that would interrupt him.  Instinctively, she gripped the side of the table with the one hand closest to the edge and braced herself with the other.  The feel of the wispy fabric holding her knees together, the cold air on her ass, and the heat from the sun spilling in from the open kitchen window all fought for her attention but she remained steadfast in her convictions and focused on nothing but the straining hot flesh pressing against her body ready to take her into another place. 

The initial intrusion came fast and with a flash of pain that almost caused Rory to cry out.  Then, beyond all reason, above all levels of comprehension of the male libido Tristan slowed down and took his time to let Rory adjust and get used to him.  For that, Rory was ever thankful… she had nearly forgotten how… she had nearly forgotten Tristan, and now grunted small breaths through clenched teeth, sweat forming on her brow as she adjusted to the magnificent invasion.  She could not imagine what she would have done if he had just plowed into her!   

“Ror…” Tristan muttered a groan that came from his belly… deep and almost inaudible.  Rory understood that he was asking for permission and nodded her head quickly, desperately letting out a whimpered, “Oh!” when she felt him withdraw only to enter her again… easier this time, though none-the-less invasive.   

Rory wanted to close her eyes and abandon herself to the sensations building within but with each thrust she was brought back to the kitchen table, forced to exhale loudly, her eyes unblinking.  She decided that she must have looked like a fish out of water gasping for air and knew that she would have bruises on her thighs from hitting the table over and over but she didn’t really care.  Tristan hand had a death grip on Rory’s left hip, the skin around his fingers a very contrasting color to her flushed pale skin. It drove him on even more.  Some spilled sugar from breakfast this morning stuck to her bare breasts and stomach and it dug into her skin adding a different dimension to already surreal experience.    

“Rory…” Tristan grunted out behind her. 

“Don’t stop!” Rory begged between gasps at the box of Captain Crunch inches from her face.   

This was not what Rory had imagined their next time to be like.  She wanted romance, candles, and a boyfriend that was not afraid to say “I love you” but here she was, being taken on her mother’s kitchen table, where just a couple of hours ago they had discussed the ingenuity of mixing mango juice with raspberry sherbet to make something they would call a Rango smoothie, in the middle of the afternoon with the blinds open no less.  There was no point in sugar-coating it; this was as far from romantic as could be imagined.  Anybody curious enough to peek in would have gotten more than an eyeful, but through all frustrations, she was getting what she wanted.  Tristan shifted his hips a little and leaned over to see Rory’s face, she looked a little shell shocked but otherwise okay…  The knowledge, more than the feeling that he was _inside_ Rory made Tristan’s blood boil and it took all he had to control himself for her sake.  Tristan bent over and playfully licked the corner of Rory’s mouth. 

“Rory…” Tristan huskily whispered in her ear, “I--” 

“Don’t say it!” Rory bit out in a desperate breath, “…not like this--” Rory clenched her teeth refusing to turn her face to look at him.  She was beyond humiliated at this point but too far gone to try to do anything about it.  Her right hand was a tight fist she wanted to beat on the table but fought the urge to be one of “those” girls… she could just imagine the smug look on Tristan’s face if she were to do so and flatly refused to give him the satisfaction that he was having that much of an effect on her.  So instead her fingernails dug into her palm and Rory struggled yet again not to cry out. It was a losing battle, he _was_ having _that_ effect one her, 

“Oh!”  

“Shit!” Tristan grunted.  Sweat dripped down his forehead stinging his eyes.  Tristan was fascinated by the small of her back and the gentle swell of her hips and impatiently wiped at his face before regaining his grip on Rory’s ass.  He had been a little too preoccupied their first time to really “see” her, but this time… in broad daylight no less…  

“Ror…” Tristan swallowed.  He wouldn’t be forgetting _this_ image of Rory any time soon. 

“Ugh!” Rory’s tilted her head up, sweat dripping down her open jaw.  She had never looked so wantonly sexy…  Tristan couldn’t help but drape over her and take her mouth in his… 

It was a hungry kiss, a desperate kiss that connected both of their bodies communicating all the unspoken words of the last couple of days.  It also communicated a very simple and urgent message, Tristan could not last much longer, the passion was too intense.  

In a desperate attempt to draw out the inevitable, Rory pushed up on the table to try to separate…  The couch was not too far, her room even closer… but the shift in angle decided for her that she too was done as Tristan’s thrusts hit just the right spot and took her over the edge.  Her body tightened, her hands slipped and she fell forward on her elbows as her orgasm rocketed through her.  Tristan felt her body tense up and he groaned out his thundering release triggering yet another orgasm from Rory who cried out like a little girl in pain.  Her head hung low and her eyes shot wide open, sweat trickled down her brow and her hair stuck to her face as she tried to think straight.  Her vision before her clouded over as the waves of pleasure crashed through her body and only started to subside after she felt Tristan pull out and pick her up like the rag doll she felt like.  

“I won!” Rory said in a dreamy afterglow as Tristan put her down on her couch. 

“You sure did Mary…” Tristan caught his breath.  He noticed her fist still tightly clenched, “Ror, what do you have in your hand?” 

Rory blinked a couple of times as she looked at her closed fist and slowly opened it to show Tristan, and herself, a crumpled condom package she had purchased “just in case” the inevitable happened.  It lay in her hand now, unopened. 

“Oh God…” Rory’s eyes widened.  She looked up at Tristan but he was now looking out the living room window. 

“Rory,” Tristan said firmly before turning to face her paled and frightened face, “get dressed, your mother is coming.” 

 

***   *The End*   ***  


End file.
